My little girl’s ghost breathed upon my neck
My neck, cream…no scars.
My baby said she couldn’t take it
My baby, she is letting me go
Her infant navel warmed my back
Infant, Jesus told me she would wait
I wondered if her fingers were real
Ones on my expectant chest, ones in my drifting hair
The sky was heavy and seemed to rest low, I was asleep
Quiet, there was no sound, only her.
The corner forced me awake, the aweful traffic lights awoke
So loud, her voice hauntingly drowned…
fading, sweetly, dear child I crossed despite the colour.
Her daddy will give her to me when I grow up.